


Remembrance

by Colorful_depression



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Afterlife, Brothers, Dream is a bitch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghosts, I'm not going to tell you how it ends, Memory Loss, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Not Canon Compliant, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Wilbur Soot, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, read to see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29965938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colorful_depression/pseuds/Colorful_depression
Summary: The story of an older brother trying desperately to save his younger brother from fading into oblivion.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Kudos: 35





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This has nothing to do with the real people. This is purely about the characters, not a shred of this should be looked at as if it were talking about the real creators. 
> 
> Also, no shipping whatsoever, Tommy is a real life minor and even if you are only using the character it’s still illegal. 
> 
> If any of the content creators see this, no matter how unlikely it may be, I will get rid of this fic and then myself.

It was a difficult thing, remembering. The pain that came with it was sharp as a blade.

The afterlife was an interesting place. Sometimes it was desolate, nothing but a vast void of white. It was like the world around him had yet to be created. Other times the afterlife was bustling, new spirits coming in and out. Those who left still had lives to spare, those like him wandered aimlessly in the tangling cities of the nether. Apparently the nether wasn’t hell, like so many had come to believe, if anything it was sort of an in between space. Somewhere for spirits to collect themselves and start processing what had happened to them. He had been through that; the remembering process was not at all an easy one.

Being a ghost amongst the living had been so isolating. He tried his best to be kind even though he could barely remember himself. Who he had been in life was scraped clean from his memory. Every time Wilbur started to put the pieces together, every time something clicked into place, he rejected it. The memories were always painful, so he rejected them, only wanting to remember what made him happy. The problem with that was that even though the memories he retained made him happy, they did not make him whole. He was like an empty shell of what Wilbur used to be. He was until he remembered. After months of rejecting what had happened, he finally accepted it. When seeing the place he once called home become nothing but a crater everything came flooding back.

It wasn’t pleasant, he felt emptier than he ever had before. His home was gone, his loved ones were hurt, and some of it was because of him. He had caused so much pain and now he had to face what he had done. It took a while; the memories would fluctuate day to day. Soon enough he did remember everything. The guilt he felt weighed down on him. He had blown up his home, he left his brothers to fend for themselves, he begged his father to kill him just so he wouldn’t have to see the look of betrayal in his little brother’s eyes. He had jumped off the deep end. There were so many things he wanted to say to everyone. Wilbur could never truly bring himself to say sorry, he just wasn’t like that, but he could at least do one thing.

Wilbur was proud. He was so proud of his youngest brother. Tommy had proved just how strong he was by defeating Dream. Seeing Tommy and Tubbo looking out to the sunset that day brought him back to simpler times, when they were all just running around, having fun and being kids. He couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Tommy seemed surprised to hear Wilbur’s voice that day. Surprised and slightly anxious. Wilbur hadn’t been the easiest person to deal with in the days leading up to his death so he couldn’t blame the younger boy for being cautious. Either way he spoke to Tommy that day telling he how proud he was and then starting a little argument, like the playful ones they used to have when things were good.

When he told Tommy that day that he’d see him soon, he never meant like this.

It was another regular day in the afterlife. Lately Wilbur had been preparing for his resurrection, getting himself ready for the ritual. Most of the preparation was just making sure he had his wits about him. His memory was holding up well and he hadn’t relapsed to a state of forgetting in a long while. Today there was something bothering him. A cold feeling zipped down his spine despite the warmth of the nether city around him. Everything felt off, like there was a shift in the atmosphere around him. As he walked down the winding streets of the nether city his anxiety started to build. He had to keep calm. Whenever his moods got too out of hand his memory would start fading once more. He couldn’t let himself revert back to that state of forgetfulness.

What had him so upset? There was nothing to be particularly worried about. As far as he knew there was nothing to be worried about, yet he couldn’t shake the worry.

“Come on, you’re fine, we’ve been fine for a while now. Don’t forget everything when you’re so close to coming back. Think about all the people you’ll never be able to see again if you don’t do this.”

If he couldn’t keep himself together then the ritual wouldn’t be carried out. His spectral form would become too unstable and the ritual would fail. Another failure would have dire repercussions. One of which would be his inability to ever see those he cared for. It had been so long since he’d been able to talk to his father. He hadn’t seen Nikki in what felt like forever. Then of course there was Tommy. They’d bicker back and forth all the time, but at the end of the day they were still brothers and he still cared for the youngest.

“I can’t let them down; they only ever saw the bad parts of me. I need to come back and show them that that’s not all that I am. I have to.”

Turning the corner, the road ahead was almost completely empty save for a few souls trudging down the sidewalk. He had been like them once. Lost and unsure what to do with himself. He almost wished that he had someone here to help him. Maybe, if the ritual wasn’t going to happen for a while, he could try making some acquaintances. The city was full of spirits, there was bound to be someone in need of some friendly company. He didn’t know almost anyone down here, thankfully. The only person that came to mind was… well he’d rather not think of the other. Even after his death that man was still drinking his afterlife away. Wilbur shook his head; thankful he wasn’t that miserable. 

Passing some of the wandering spirits he found himself slowing down. Something was still biting at him.

_Look back, go back, go back._

Whispers invaded his ears, like the whispers of the lost souls trapped in the soul sand valleys. These whispers urged him to turn back. It was almost like they were pulling him backwards, toward a small alleyway between two towering apartment buildings. He wasn’t one to aimlessly follow the whispering of the soul sand anymore. He had learned the hard way that some of the lost souls wished nothing but ill will on other spirits. This time was different, their whispering seeming urgent, like their message was for his ears only.

Following the voices, he went further down the alleyway. Their volume increased. A choir of lost souls spoke to him, urging him forward. Until he was met with a peculiar sight. 

At the end of the alley was a chain link fence. Fences like these kept the city and the spirits inside safe from the wilds of the nether. Leaning against the fence, faced away from Wilbur, was a young spirit. The spirit was grey, devoid from any color at all. He always hated seeing young spirits down here. They didn’t deserve to be down here at such a young age. They were the ones who were supposed to have their whole lives ahead of them. Then again he himself was not that old when he lost his last life.

“Hey, if I were you I’d stay away from the fence. It’s pretty dangerous out there.”

The child didn’t turn around, instead they leaned their head against the fence, looking out to the nether. They didn’t say much, simply letting Wilbur’s words fall to the side, not taking in any of what was being said. Young spirits had the hardest time accepting what had happened to them. Some would become so hopeless that they’d eventually disappear into the soul sand valley, becoming lost souls forever.

“Do you know where you’re going? Are you lost or…”

It was difficult to really ask a spirit if they were lost. There was no specific place that a spirit was supposed to go once they reached the nether city. Wandering aimlessly was a part of the process. Yet something felt off once more. Today just felt all wrong, his anxiety first then the whispers of the lost souls. What the hell was going on?

“If you’re new I can show you around, maybe get you going somewhere.”

“Why does it matter?”

The voice was soft, almost as if he were afraid to speak. The choir of whispers from earlier were louder than this spirit. The poor thing probably felt lost and empty. Empty like Wilbur had felt. As much as Wilbur would like to say there weren’t many things that could pull on his heartstrings, that just wasn’t true. Wilbur could truly be kindhearted when it counted. He knew what the loneliness of the afterlife felt like… maybe he could help.

Reaching out for the spirit, he placed his hand on the young spirit’s shoulder. The Other didn’t react, seemingly unbothered by the touch. Wilbur rummaged through the pockets in his overcoat.

“I think I have a compass somewhere in here…”

“A compass?”

“Yeah I- “

Wilbur looked to the other spirit and his stomach immediately dropped. He could have vomited if it were possible for ghosts to do so. He swallowed hard, trying to keep calm as he looked to the other. His hands shook, yet his grip stayed strong on the other’s shoulder.

“Tommy?” He asked almost scared to say it.

“Wilbur?” Tommy said back, no emotion in his voice.

His eyes looked empty, and nothing like the sparkling blue Wilbur was used to. Tommy’s eyes held adventure, excitement, and stubbornness in them. These eyes that were staring at Wilbur right now were devoid of any emotion. Nothingness stared back at him.

On further inspection there were several other things wrong. His mind raced with so many questions. The only one that counted right now was…

“Why are you here?”

Tommy looked to the ground and back at Wilbur. There was nothing, no answer, no smart remark, no expression of anger at all. Wilbur took hold of both of Tommy’s shoulders, now feeling more than a bit panicked.

“Tommy you have to tell me, what happened? Who… who did this to you?”

“Wilbur I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The teen answered bluntly.

Wilbur searched Tommy’s face for any semblance of emotion, something that would tell him this was a cruel joke. Again, all he was met with was nothingness. Wilbur didn’t know what to do, his mind in an absolute whirlwind. This feeling of pure unpleasantness rose in his chest. He had to calm himself quickly. Taking a moment to collect himself, Wilbur took a deep breath trying to straighten out his train of thought. Cold hands covered his. Looking back up at Tommy he watched as his brother tilted his head a bit.

“Wilbur, I’m tired.” He said quietly.

“That… okay yeah, there’s an idea. Let’s go home… um then we can talk. Maybe get you to bed or something.”

Wilbur was off, adrenaline pumping as his anxiety skittered around in his stomach. He had to keep on moving, he couldn’t dwell on what was happening right now. They would make it to his apartment and then from there they’d, well they would figure all of this out.

Keeping a tight hold on Tommy’s wrist, Wilbur basically dragged the kid through the winding streets of the city. Sudden whispers started up again. This time their voices seemed to scream, their message bouncing around in Wilbur’s head.

_ONE OF US. HE IS ONE OF US._

The ghastly message made Wilbur shiver. He quickened his pace, making sure his grip on Tommy’s wrist didn’t falter. Like hell was he going to let them have him. His brother couldn’t be a lost soul, he just couldn’t be. Not yet, not if he had anything to say about it. The road seemed to be never ending. At the next turn of the corner Wilbur finally saw his apartment building. He rushed inside, thankful his apartment was too far up, and set forward toward the elevator.

The two brothers stood in silence. Nothing scared Wilbur more right now than the silence growing between them. Tommy was never like this. There was always a thought on the younger’s mind, those thoughts never only stayed in his head. Tommy was one that spoke his mind. The only time that Wilbur could think of where Tommy acted similar to this was during the exile. Other than that it seemed like there was almost never a moment where Tommy wasn’t talking. 

Almost never, until now.


End file.
